YOUR mother believes you need guidance in making the correct choices, including your poor judgment in choosing a spouse. Even though your husband is right there:
A strange quiz show gremlin to the likes of you and me, a genius and superior marriage material to your mum. Imagine all the endless hours you could have spent together, hearing him rattle off useless trivia in between listening to tracks from his solo album. Plus he might’ve introduced you to Richard Osman.
He’s a dishevelled upper class hunk who lived in the Hebrides and rowed the Atlantic like a proper man, what’s not to like? Plus he’s the author of a lovely book about Labradors which your husband was stupid enough to give her for Christmas four years ago. He essentially built himself a gallows.
Him from Countryfile who used to do The One Show
You know, that hunk who used to present Blue Peter. Farmhand type. He’s got Mr Darcy’s good looks and big strong arms that look like they could cradle a lost foal on a windswept moor. Not like your husband, who’s deathly allergic to cats. Why are you still with him again? Oh great, now he’s crying.
You were only three when your mum first heard Stars by Simply Red, but even then the die was cast. Here was a polite young lad with the voice of an angel who clearly valued faithfulness and virtue as well as being the eternal boy next door; in other words, ideal marriage material. And you know he’s never going to cheat because, well, look at him.
You left Paul because he was a cheating, deluded and pathologically dishonest piece of shit. Big mistake. Your mum hasn’t stopped gushing about how he once presented her with a (stolen) Andrea Bocelli CD and she never will. A sweet and charming gent but you were just too self-absorbed to see it.
The world’s richest man was never going to go unnoticed by your mum. Sure, he destroyed Twitter and has a string of ex partners who seem to loathe him, but in her eyes he’s got his head screwed on straight. Plus he’s got ambitions like going to Mars, whereas your husband’s biggest goal is to clear out the garage in the next decade.
Bound to provoke revulsion from you, but your mum’s an ageing Tory who likes her bad boys. In her opinion all the horrendous stuff he did was Carrie’s fault anyway. What Boris really needs is a decent woman in his ear, plus you’d probably be health secretary by now if you shacked up with him, not still farting around as a GP.